


Smoke+Memories

by Bekbek



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Gen, Mission Fic, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, of course my first fic is whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 17:34:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17771189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bekbek/pseuds/Bekbek
Summary: “There's a gun runner raising hell along the Texas border. You two need to go down and figure out who's supplying him and where he’s selling.”





	Smoke+Memories

 

When Jack heard that their next mission had been close to his old stomping grounds it had sounded like a gift. An easy job in areas he knew, with connections he could call, and close to home? It sounded like they could finish up and still have time for supper. Now being hogtied against a wall with a pounding headache and no idea where his damn partner had gone off to, he regretted not preparing for the worst. 

 

Everything had been going so well too. They had broken into the gun runners warehouse, took a peek at all his goodies and records, Mac had even managed to plant a small listening device. So the getting in had gone near perfect, the getting out on the other hand… Jack squinted into the shadows trying to find any movement. As far as he could tell he had just been dumped in a corner but with how his vision kept swimming in and out of focus he wasn't certain. His memory was a bit fuzzy but he was pretty sure that the back of his head and a pistol had gotten intimate. He couldn't even remember is someone had grabbed Mac, or if the kid had run off to plot somewhere.

 

“ _ Mac?”  _ Jack hissed, he couldn’t afford to be overheard. 

 

The tiny earpiece hidden deep in his ear crackled like a bad walkie talkie, he thought he might be able to hear words but they weren’t clear enough to understand. He let loose another sigh and craned his neck to check for unwelcome visitors again. Thankfully he still couldn’t see anyone. When he had been tied up someone had searched him for his weapons, they had taken his guns and tactical knife but not everything. With shaking fingers Jack twisted the leather cuff he always wore and undid the buckle. He teased open the inside flap and pulled a small razor blade free. Being careful not to drop the tiny thing he shook it out of its wax paper and into his other palm. 

 

Once more checking for a guard or anything Jack leant fully against the wall and started sawing at his bonds. It was an awkward angle and his damn hands wouldn’t stop shaking, any time the razor slipped and carved a line of fire into his skin he held in a curse. He could feel tiny beads of blood welling up and tracing warm paths across his palms but Jack didn't let that stop him. If Mac had been caught at the same time as him the kid would need backup. Even if he hadn’t been caught Jack needed to be there to keep him safe. There was no telling what the little genius was doing, or if he had taken the time to ensure his own safety. 

 

Finally cutting through the ropes holding his wrists together Jack took a second to shake the pins and needles out of his hands before moving on to the rope around his ankles. These ropes went much faster now that he didn't have to worry about knicking himself in the process. Once free he took a second to place the razor blade back in it’s paper then into its hiding spot in his cuff before pushing to his feet. Casting his eyes around the warehouse Jack didn’t see anyone standing guard, but they also hadn’t seen anyone when they were attacked. 

 

The whole mission was starting to look a little cockeyed to Jack. Matty had seemed to think it would be a breeze, yet here they were. It took someone with major training to sneak up on him, and he liked to think that there weren’t many that could get the drop on him more than once. All the same Jack didn’t want to run the risk of being seen by any lingering nasties. Crouching back against the wall was definitely to avoid detection, not because he felt like he was about to fall over any given second. 

 

Jack tried to shake the fuzziness from his mind, the sharp motion almost causing him to lose his lunch over the floor. Distantly he remembered being a cocksure teenager going ass-over-teakettle and getting a concussion one football practice, this was starting to shape up to be very bad for his health. What he wouldn’t give to be at home with his mother fussing and his father telling her not to worry.  _ Mac would love Mama, and she would shower him in all the love he’s missed out on.  _ Jack started to drift through thoughts of bringing Mac home with him until a clang pierced the air. 

 

He couldn’t let himself drift into dreamland yet. There was still trouble around, it was blonde haired blue eyed and named after a hamburger. If the kid tried to set off a bomb or release homemade nerve gas or whatever that bag of ferrets the boy called a brain came up with Jack would be screwed. He just… he needed a minute to get his head on straight so he could make it to exfil. Or find Mac, whichever happened first. If he could just get the stupid earpiece to work then he could just ask the kid what was going on. 

 

“Mac?” he tried again hoping for the best. 

 

Still nothing but static, he couldn’t even pretend to hear words this time. Jack pulled the thing out of his ear and turned it over in his hands. As far as he could tell from just looking it seemed fine, maybe there was some kind of blocker. When everything was over he would let Riley have it to work her beep booping magic. Jack tucked it into a pocket on his vest and stopped stalling, he needed to finally get his butt in gear. Casting a final glance around the seemingly abandoned warehouse Jack started creeping around the wall to where they had originally entered. He couldn’t move very fast, or even take one hand off the wall, dizziness and nausea making even walking slowly a struggle. 

 

His daddy had always liked to tell Jack he was more stubborn than a three headed billy goat. When he was younger Jack had resented it, but he realized just how true it was when trying to keep his squad alive in the army. Since coming stateside and working with Phoenix Jack had been using his pure stubborn grit as fuel to get through some of his worst days. There was no way in hell Jack would let something like a concussion be the reason a mission went belly up. So long as he could put one foot in front of the other he would keep going. 

 

Jack kept his head down to watch the careful placement of his feet. He refused to look up and see how much ground he still had left to cover knowing just how frustrating it would be to get confirmation on how slow he was going. It wasn’t until the metal under his palm got hot enough to hurt that he stopped and looked around. He couldn’t see any reason for the heat to exist. It had been night when they crept through the doors and the window high up on the ceiling still showed black skys. Though now that he was looking properly it was getting harder to see those windows. Like his eyes had fogged over without him noticing. 

 

Swiping his forearm against his eyes Jack squinted at the ceiling above him. It was still fuzzy, either he had been hit a  _ lot  _ harder than he thought or he was starting to see signs of Mac finangling. Taking a deep breath in all Jack could smell was gunpowder. He hadn’t heard any guns go off, but he had been out for a few minutes at least. The thought of Mac,  _ his Mac,  _ lying somewhere possibly bleeding out and in pain sent an oily fear through his veins. Refocusing on his goal Jack forced his legs back into motion, he would find Mac there was no other option. 

 

Jack was less than a few strides from the door when he started smelling the smoke. Any kid that had grown up in the country had a good nose for bonfires, he could tell you what wood was burning with accuracy. This time he could tell that is was a trash fire, probably started in one of the piles of junk stacked around the warehouse. The smell of burning plastics had always turned his stomach but for once it brought forth a smile. If Mac was well enough to be starting fires then he was probably just fine. Jack ignored the cold tingle that climbed up his spine at the memory of smoke shoving its way into his lungs and made his way to the door. 

 

Finally reaching the door Jack grabbed the knob and pushed… or at least he tried to. Not only was the metal burning hot against his palm, but the door only opened a few inches before it caught against something. Jack leaned his whole body weight into the door but it didn't even budge. Pushing into the crack he peered through to try and see what was blocking it. The sight in front of him had a lump of fear growing in his throat. 

 

Propped up against the door was some knocked over pallets and other random trash, but that wasn’t what caught his attention. There had been a reason the doorknob had been so hot after all, just steps away fire danced without a care for trapping him. There was no way for him to get through, even if he could get the door open he had no way of knowing how big the fire was. He was stuck in a warehouse, surrounded by fire, and with no way of communicating with his team. Let alone with the concussion still clouding his head and making basic planning almost more than he could handle. 

 

Jack stumbled back a step letting the door swing back closed. He needed to think, to figure out some way to escape, but he could barely keep his thoughts straight to begin with.  _ Where’s Mac when you actually need him.  _ The kid would be able to figure something out in minutes, if it even took that long. He would probably jury rig something to pull them up to the windows or remote put out the fire or breathing masks out of napkins and his phone. His thoughts were starting to spiral again, he needed to take a step back and evaluate what he needed to do. 

 

Jack took another few steps away from the door, sweat sliding down his neck as it got hotter. There was still the main door, he just had to make it back across the warehouse and hope there was no fire on that side of the building. He would give just about anything to be able to contact his team, rather than being left in the dark. Riley should have already figured out that his comms were down, and if Macs were still up she would have told him. If Macs were also down then he was just screwed. 

 

Fire. It was almost funny in a twisted way. When he was a stupid teenager one of his favorite things had been to spend his weekends gathered around a hot fire with a cold beer. Even in his later years kicking back on Macs porch nursing wounds and a drink brought peace. Then a gangbanger had shoved him in a coffin and tried to burn him alive. These days it was hard for him to watch the writhing colors without feeling the old fear, the pain biting at his skin. Fire had almost killed him once and unless he came up with a brilliant idea it would again. 

 

He tried to get to the other door as quickly as he could, he really did, but anything faster than a crawl had his vision blacking out and nausea crawling up his throat. He was only half way across the floor when he started hacking, the smoke was filling the air quick. Jack pulled his sweat damp collar up over his nose and hunched over in an effort to avoid the worst of it. He needed to go  _ faster,  _ if only his damn body would cooperate. Smoke was stinging his eyes as he kept moving forwards, but he couldn’t stop.

 

```

 

_ This bed is really uncomfortable, I should tell Mac to replace it. Or at least wash the sheets, someone climbed in here in their boots sandbox style.  _ Jack lifted himself on an elbow and tried to peer around the room, but he wasn’t at the kids place. He was in some dirty building filled with dust or something else to make him sneeze. The sudden motion sent peals of pain through his head and lungs, he felt awful. He didn’t know what happened to leave him in such a situation. Slowly his memories filtered in bringing with them the slimy trace of dread. 

 

He had been wracked with coughs, that killed his head and made it even harder to breath. He must have passed out, though he wasn’t fully certain. Smoke had steadily filled the room, to the point that even lying on the ground he was still having trouble breathing. He pushed up to his knees and peered about, flames still hadn’t entered the warehouse and he was thankful for it. Jack dug through his pocket and pulled out his dead com again. He flipped it on and stuck it back into his ear, listening to the static. He wasn’t sure if he was really hearing words buried under the mess or if it was just wishful thinking but it brought a bit of comfort anyway.

 

Old fire safety courses ran through his head, he knew he needed to keep something over his mouth and nose and try to stay low to the ground. For the life of him he couldn’t remember how long he could breath the smoke in, but he figured if he had already passed out his time would be quickly running out. He started to crawl forwards, keeping out of the smoke as much as he could and keeping his eyes trained on the main doors. So long as he kept moving forwards he would be fine, even if he only kept moving through sheer stubborn bullheadedness. 

 

Everytime Jack tried to think panic forced its way to the front of his mind. He knew exactly how much being burnt hurt, and what it felt like to only have smoke in his lungs. Back then it had been Mac to save him, but he didn’t even know if the boy had made it out of the warehouse. He hoped so, and figured it would have been him to light the fires. It could have been the gun gunner trying to cover their tracks, but they hadn’t pulled any of their goods out first. The boxes stacked over his head were filled with an assortment of ammo. 

 

He couldn’t stop to think dig through the boxes in hopes of finding a gun. Time was steadily running out and he had to keep pausing to cough, black stuff was starting to come out in his palm. After what he would judge to be another 10 minutes jack made it to the main door. He leant against the meta and was eternally grateful that it wasn't hot through his clothes. It took to much effort to pull himself to his feet, vision spotting black even when he leant his weight against the wall. Every breath burned his chest and throat, the smoke was definitely starting to get to him. 

 

It was one of those roll up doors, but Jack couldn’t see any chain to pull in order to make it roll up. He did see a row of buttons and crossed his fingers that the door was automated and would work. Pulling up the casing Jack found the button that read ‘open’ and jammed his thumb into it, it took an agonizingly long moment but the door started rolling open with a clatter. Jack numbly watched the smoke rush through the ever widening crack. The second he took his thumb off the button the door started closing again. Jack scrambled to press the button once more and raise the door to its full height. 

 

He could hear the crackling of the flames as the doors slowly rolled up, but as far as he could see the way out was clear. The door was about halfway open when a familiar figure came tearing around the corner of the warehouse. Jack grinned widely at the familiar glint of blonde hair backlit by glowing orange. 

 

“Jack!” Mac shouted.

 

Jack waved with his free hand and took a single step forwards before his knees gave out. He was still smiling as everything faded to black, the sound of Mac shouting and the door clattering closed filling his ears. 


End file.
